Vanished Gold
by princ3ssf33t
Summary: It was a pressure point Ed didn't realize he had. But by the time he knew about it, it was too late and the enemy had pushed it. The danger was closing in on them and all Ed wanted to hear was her voice on the other end of the telephone. *Written for lieutenant-sarcastic on tumblr as a Secret Santa gift*


He could no more keep himself from muttering the periodic table under his breath than he could keep his heart from trying to beat out of his chest. The borrowed change from Mustang was clenched tightly in his flesh fist. Al was trotting faithfully beside Ed as he forced his way through the crowds of people to get to the nearest telephone booth. It didn't matter how desperate he appeared to be. The fact of the matter he _was_ desperate.

Winry was being threatened by the Fuhrer of the nation, a homunculus, who viewed humans as little more than insects to be eliminated once they became too bothersome or the threat they possessed became too great.

But that wasn't even the worst of it. Winry was an automail mechanic in Rush Valley. She was more concerned about her automail being kept up to date with her patients than the revealing inherent corruption within their government. Hell, Winry probably didn't even know that there was anything suspicious going on within the high ranking officers in charge of the nation. Even if she was aware of it, there wasn't much she would be able to do about it. The worst she could probably too to anyone was was hit them over the head with a wrench. Or cry.

But perhaps only Ed thought Winry crying was the worst.

Upon getting to the nearest phone booth, Ed hopped from one foot to the other as the individual in the booth finished their call. Al restrained himself from doing so, there still was that little girl from Xing in the depths of his armor that needed medical attention. But Ed knew that if Al had been able too, he would be nearly as antsy as Ed himself.

Ed barely let the woman inside the phone booth clear the door before Ed squeezed through and started dropping coins in the coin slot. He needed to call Winry. Now. She must have arrived in Rush Valley by now. She had a few days to get back. And if Ed knew anything about Winry, she would have already begun to see some of her patients already. Hopefully he could catch her between patients.

If not, Ed found he didn't really care. He just needed to hear her voice to know she was all right.

He spun the rotary dial for each of the numbers to reach Winry. She had given it to him before she left to go back to Rush Valley, just in case. But each time the dial wound back was a heartbeat or two too many. Mocking him for not realizing that his vulnerable point was so plainly out in the open for everyone to see. Mocking him for not realizing that she _was_ a pressure point.

His steady stream of periodic table muttering had stopped in favor of gripping the phone tightly with his automail hand. His flesh hand choked up on the chord as he waited for the individual on the other end to pick up and answer his call.

A moment of panic swept through him. What if she didn't answer? What would he do then? Ed attempted to brush that away and rationalize those fears. If she didn't answer, it was likely she was with a patient and Mr. Garfiel would answer in her stead. Ed would still get the answers that he needs, but he wouldn't disturb her work. Yeah. No need to make Winry mad for breaking her concentration.

When the familiar click of someone picking up the phone was heard, Ed's heart began to sprint. This was it. He was going to discover if Winry was all right or not.

"Winry?" He asked as soon as he heard the individual on the other end of the line inhale to greet whoever was calling.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Winry's not here right now. May I be of assistance instead?" The voice speaking was distinctly male. Mr. Garfiel.

Ed tried not to let his heart drop to his feet. He failed.

"D-do you know when she'll be back?" Ed consciously had to loosen the stranglehold on the phone. It would do him no good if he broke it with his automail. He didn't think that the military would want to pay for a replacement phone after firmly cementing himself as someone that needed to be kept under thumb.

He felt hot all over, but the sweat escaping was cold. This couldn't be happening. Winry was there. She _had_ to be. She had to be just out running an errand or something. Even if most of the shops were beginning to close their doors for the evening. Just an errand.

"I couldn't say. She had told me she would be here either today or yesterday, but when I went to the station she wasn't there. Apparently she never boarded the train." Mr. Garfiel paused before continuing. "She's never failed to keep her word like this before."

Ed could vaguely hear Al asking what was happening in the background. He could barely hear him. The dull roaring in his ears was steadily getting louder and drowning him. It couldn't be. They had _seen_ Winry leave on the train. They _had been there_ when she boarded. Ed had shouted out his promise that he wouldn't make her cry again unless they were tears of joy. She was _there_.

But now she wasn't. Sometime between Central and Rush Valley, Winry disappeared from the train, as did any trace of her. There was only one explanation as to what had happened to her, and it churned his stomach to think about.

He thought that maybe they would leave her alone. That they would understand that she didn't need to be kept under monitor, or under lock and key, as some others, such as Mustang or Hawkeye.

Through the din of his thoughts, Ed heard himself thank Mr. Garfiel and hang up the phone. It wasn't a hard landing or a slam, like he was known to do when things got dicey. Ed set the phone down with a precise calmness that was almost too gentle and uncharacteristic for him. Shock, echoed a voice somewhere in his head. He was in shock. Ed stumbled out of the telephone booth.

"Ed? Ed, what's the matter? Did you find out about Winry? Ed?!"

His stomach clenched. He wanted to throw up, but there was nothing in his stomach to expel. His automail hand clutched at his stomach instead.

"She's gone." Ed's voice barely escaped his lips. "They got her. She's gone."

 _And it's all my fault._

* * *

 **A/N:** This was my secret santa gift for lieutenant-sarcastic over on tumblr who specifically thought angst was a good idea. So, I did my best to not let her down. Don't be afraid to leave a comment.


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